Shunned By the Doves

It's strange
how i never knew
how to accept kindness
gracefully,
let alone a compliment.

it's also strange
that you were so good to me,
in a multitude of tiny ways
new cds, and snacks,
staying up until 3,
laughing at Scrubs
until i peed on myself a little.

but i was sure that
there was some ulterior something
that i just didn't know-
you judged me,
used me,
laughed at me
the second my back was turned.

i questioned every dime you spent,
saw menace
in your every gesture
and knew
that some part of you hated me
just as much
as i distrusted you.

all those nights
when we went to hastings
looking for films
and i was deathly afraid,
chest pains abounding,
certain that i would pick
the wrong fucking movie
and you would throw me to the wolves-

i should've
taken a deep breath
pulled my shoulders back
and relished
having a friend to hold me in the night.
should've bottled that laughter,
saved it for a rainy day-
because you better believe
it rained 40 days and 40 nights
10 times over
when we parted ways,
and my ark of terror
was no where near sea worthy.

i was flooded
with failure
shunned by the doves,
and i think it was sheer dumb luck
that i washed up on the west coast
alive enough
to send this message forth:

all along,
it turns out,
you were just
a damn good guy,
mostly sincere
well-wishing
not a bad lay
and i was simply bat shit crazy
lost inside my own head
unable to see past
the rolling fields of lunacy
that unfurled inside my mind.